Every age has its own poetry; in every age the circumstances of history choose a nation, a race, a class to take up the torch by creating situations that can be expressed or transcended only through poetry. Jean-Paul Sartre
If, as we are often told, football is poetry, there is one club who have embodied that ideal, taken it farther, elaborated it more powerfully, than any other. They are a team who have had their fair share of success, but wanted more; who have won silverware, but not quite as prolifically as their fiercest rivals; who have reached for the loftiest ideals and often attained them, but more frequently have fallen agonisingly short.
They are a club personified by one man, perhaps the most intricate and enigmatic presence in English football. A man admired by countless fans for his resolute pursuit of the artistic, but whose deeper nature has always been swathed in mystery.
“Arsène Who?” was the headline-writer’s quip when the man from Alsace arrived in North London and, in a curious way — 13 years and three Premier League titles later — the question retains its resonance.
Just who is Arsène Wenger? What lies beneath?
It is a warm summer afternoon in Central London and Wenger is seated before a packed press gathering in a small room at Great Ormond Street Hospital. Alongside him on the podium is Jake Peach, a 12-year-old Arsenal supporter who has battled leukaemia, and the actress, Barbara Windsor. Wenger is there, along with three of his players, to announce Arsenal’s latest charity appeal. The club aim to raise £500,000 for the children’s hospital.
After the speeches, Wenger presents Windsor with an Arsenal shirt and is ever-so-slightly abashed when she responds with a gushing hug. The Frenchman smiles shyly, but with warmth, his face creasing into a thousand lines. He then takes questions from the assembled football writers, his wit evident in every answer. He seems to be enjoying the verbal sparring after the summer lull, flashing a smile whenever the questioning gets tough.
But it is only when we repair to an anteroom for an in-depth interview that one is exposed to the full voltage of Wenger’s charisma.
He starts slowly, picking his way through questions on politics, the arts, globalisation and culture. He is reasoned, well-read and imbued with deep moral seriousness. Then the conversation turns to football and it is as if a switch has flicked in his soul; as if a lightning bolt has surged through his body.
The question raised is: “Is football art?” Wenger’s eyes flash as he warms to the theme. “I believe that anything in life, if it is really well done, becomes art,” he says. “If you read a great writer, he touches deep inside and helps you to discover something about life.
“Life is important on a daily basis because you transform it — you try to transform it — into something that is close to art. And football is like that. When I see Barcelona, to me it is art.”
But is there sometimes a conflict between aesthetics and success? Are there times when Arsenal have created great art on the pitch but at the expense of results? “I agree with you,” Wenger says, “but at the end of the day, I ask you: who is the most successful team in the world? Brazil. What do they play? Good football. Who won everything last year? Barcelona. What do they play? Lovely football.
